


Among The Chaos, We Found Peace

by Little_Red92



Series: Chaos Thoery [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Archie Andrews, Demisexual Jughead Jones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red92/pseuds/Little_Red92
Summary: Sequel to We Pray For Peace, Instead We Get ChaosIt's been nine months since Jughead was raped on his sixteenth birthday, at the party he never wanted. Recovery has been slow and painfully, but the arrival of summer sends the boys on their long await road trip and along the way Jughead finds peace within himself.





	Among The Chaos, We Found Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this, I have been having some health issues. I hope you all enjoy the emotional journey with Jughead and Archie.

Warm summer breeze rushes through the open windows, rifling fingers through dark locks. Music fills the comfortable silence, Archie’s fingers tap rhythmically against the steering wheel, hair blindingly bright in the setting sun. It’s been a long day of driving, of relentless heat and Jughead is looking forward to getting to their next destination so he can stretch his legs and unwind under a cold spray of water. The sun is sinking low in the sky, up ahead a neon motel sign blinks to life; a safe refuge for the evening.

It’s been nine months since the night Jughead was raped, nine months of rebuilding, fighting, conquering fears. It’s been the longest nine months of his life, and though he works so hard to cope with anxiety, to make it through each day, it’s still a challenge at times. He is so much better, they both are which is why they are finally on their long-awaited road trip, but there are still moments where he falters. He is a work in progress, and he hopes this trip will somehow enlighten him, that there will be a place, a town, a road where he finds an end and a new beginning.

On that road or in that place or town he’ll find the power to let go of the last tendrils of darkness, the fraying strands holding him to the past, _to Bryce_. He shouldn’t focus on these troubled thoughts, Archie and Doctor Hadley always tell him to remember how far he has come. Concentrate on the good, on the nightmare-free nights, the ability to feel joy, to do more than kiss Archie. The journey has been long, daunting at times, but he has made it this far; to the passenger seat of an old Jeep with Archie by his side and a week of endless possibilities stretching out before them.

**XxX**

_It’s a new year, Jughead is blinking the fog from his mind and shaking off the cobwebs as he struggles to recall where he is. The roof above is unfamiliar, the sheets too soft to be his own or Archie’s, even the smell is wrong. Panic stirs awake in his veins, sitting up he throws the covers off and leaps from the bed, feeling cold timber flooring beneath his feet. Taking a deep breath, he forces the panic from his mind, focusing on the slumbering lump in the bed, bright red hair peeking out of the navy-blue covers._

_Sagging in relief, he crawls back into the bed, memories of last night working free of his fear riddled mind. Cheryl had thrown a party for New Year's Eve; Jughead hadn't wanted to come, it's not like the last party he went too ended well. She’d implored him, told him to bring Archie, Betty, Veronica and Kevin and she even offered him a room to retreat to if he felt overwhelmed. He took a chance, he sent Bryce a silent fuck you and arrived at Cheryl’s party with the gang in tow._

_He kind of had fun, it wasn’t exactly horrible, and the presence of the old gothic manor seemed to subdue the teens, making them second guess their reckless choices. It was after midnight when he retreated to the old, spooky bedroom, lips warm from the midnight kiss he shared with Archie. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, there is no recollection of Archie coming in but the morning sun is seeping through the thick drapes and casting the eerie room in a golden glow._

_Feeling his stomach rumble in hunger, he decides it's time to wake Archie so they can head to Pops for breakfast. It takes a few tries to wake Archie, he sleeps like the dead, but eventually, they are both dressed and creeping through the maze-like hallways of Thornhill manor. The house creaks and groans around them, shaking the night from its bones as it welcomes a new day. If only these walls could talk, the stories they would tell would be enough to write a lifetime of novels. They remain silent, holding tight to their secrets as Jughead and Archie move through the halls like ghosts. The only disturbance to be found once is the sound of their footsteps._

_Outside the day is beautiful, the moment they cross the threshold and step out under the golden sun the chill leaves Jughead’s bones, the sense of dread lifting from his stomach. There is something deeply unsettling about Thornhill Manor; darkness has settled in its foundations, stained its walls and poisoned its waters. He hopes Cheryl can escape one day, can find a place that doesn't feel like death and decay. Maybe it's just this town, with its sticky secrets and history of bloodshed, of people going missing late in the night, lost souls never to be heard from again._

_Like Jason Blossom, whose killer is still out there. Like all the others who have vanished in the past, disappearing in the dead of night, taken by strangers, by friends or squeezing into the backseat of overcrowded cars or boarding trains to anywhere. The streets of this town are built upon graves, homes standing among ghosts that have untold stories and revenge to seek. Riverdale isn't wholesome anymore; Jughead can spot the skeletons, the Devils in hiding. One day he will leave this town behind, will abandon the ghost of the boy he used to be in the rear-view memory and find a place, a town, a city where he can be free._

_Where no one knows what happened to him._

_Because everyone knows and everyone remembers, and everything is different now. It’s not bad, not all the time; it's just different. No matter how much time passes he can’t thaw the ice from his veins or shake the rust from his bones. He wants to shed his skin, crawl out of this body and find someone untouched to live in, someone who won’t be looked at with pity, who won’t be known as the kid who was raped at a party. The new day has awoken spiralling thoughts, the night spent tense and waiting for chaos has left him frayed, susceptible to falling apart._

_When they arrive at Pop's he sits at a booth far off in the back, Archie orders for them then turns amber eyes his way. He can sense Jug's mood change a mile off; he'll stay close, try to get him to open up, to unbottle the darkness. It's a pattern they have, Jughead spirals, slips into a sombre mood and Archie rushes in, a light to guide him home. He doesn't want to talk about it; he is tired of always talking about it, of being a burden._

_“Jug?” Archie is reaching for his hand, is reaching into the darkness to pull him back. “Are you okay?”_

_“Yeah” he shrugs, lacing their fingers together “just tired.”_

_“You know I can tell when you are lying right?”_

_“Well, can we just pretend you believe me?” he asked, words harsher than he would have liked._

_“Okay, fine” he surrendered, sagging against the seat, eyes sad and glistening with the desire to help, to chase away the pain that has settled in Jug’s bones. “Did you not have fun last night?”_

_“Well, no one raped me, so I consider any event I don’t get assaulted a win.”_

_Archie sighed, expression caught between hurt and frustrated. Jughead must stop doing this; he has to stop throwing up walls and deflecting pain with harsh words and sardonic humour, Archie deserved better. He squeeze's Archie's hand, a silent apology, a signal that he is lowering the walls, permitting Archie to enter, to try again. He doesn't speak, their food arrives, and he starts to eat, leaving Jug to make a move, to make an actual apology; he doesn't get to be an ass just because something terrible happened to him._

_“I’m sorry, Archie” he is, he hates that he says cruel things and keeps slipping back into depression, into a sad, anxious mess._

_“I know, Jug,” Archie said, sounding so tired, worn to the bone. “I wish you’d just talk to me instead of making us go through this song and dance. You do this every time, and I know I don’t understand what you are going through but I need you to try…” he paused, choosing his words carefully “Try to be less closed off.”_

_“I am trying, Arch” he admitted, feeling his appetite fade and tears well in his eyes. “I try every damn day to be happy, to not think about what happened, to keep my head above the water. But I am still a rape victim, and I am not fixed yet."_

_“You need to stop calling yourself that, Jug, it’s not helping you any.”_

_He can tell by Archie’s face that he regrets his choice of words, that he didn’t mean for it to cut so deep but it did, and it hurts. He knows Archie is trying to get him to see that he isn’t these things, to believe and on good days he almost can. But then he sees it shimmering in the eyes of strangers, of friends, of his father and the words come alive, are a beast roaring through his head and trampling over all the progress he has made. It becomes all he can see._

_“I am though, Archie” he snapped. “I can’t change that.”_

_“You can start believing that you are a survivor instead,” Archie persisted, “and that’s not to say being a victim is a bad thing. We’re both victims, Jug but we also survived,_ you survived _.”_

_Jughead feels a shift, it's small, a flutter of a change but it’s enough to have him pick up his knife and fork and start eating. The conversation is sidelined until they have finished and are walking the streets back to Archie’s house. The food in his stomach, Archie's hand warm and calloused clasped within his own and the fresh morning air scatters the darkness, like the ocean tide it comes and goes. They are half way home when Archie stops, turns towards Jughead and kisses him, lips tasting salty and sweet._

_“What was that for?” he asked, lips quirking into a slight smile._

_“I have an idea.”_

_“Archie, I love you, but sometimes you don’t have the best ideas.” He can count on both hands how many of Archie’s ideas have led them astray or gone horribly awry, but he is looking at him with a bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes, Jughead won't deny him. “Okay, fine what is it?”_

_He grins, takes both of Jughead’s hands into his own and says, “How do you feel about getting a tattoo?”_

**XxX**

The cold shower was heavenly, it eased the tension from his shoulder and chased away the fog from his mind. Soon they'll find somewhere to have dinner or order take-out if they don’t feel like driving. Archie has just ducked into the shower and Jug is sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through the photos he’d taken over the last few days. Setting the camera aside, the dark letters on his wrist capture his attention, on the pale flesh is the word survivor, permanently marked on his skin in his own handwriting, so he never forgets what he is. It's a constant reminder that he made it, that he can keep going no matter how dark the days grow.

The day he got the tattoo was the last time he referred to himself as a victim, it’s like the ink sunk deep into his skin, running straight to his mind and slashing the word to shreds. He wasn’t ashamed that he was a victim, it wasn’t an ugly thing to be, but he could see from that day forward that he was more, he had survived. Other issues came to light over the following months, every time he defeated one troubling thought there was another waiting to take its place, it was a vicious circle that he still struggled through.

He was better though; he was happier, lighter. Archie could kiss him deeply, could let his hands wander, explore, seeking bare flesh and drawing pleasure from a body that had only known pain. It was a long journey; Jughead had to let go of the idea that he was tainted, that Bryce had stolen his virginity and in doing so made him undesirable. He had to get comfortable with Archie's touch, with his hands going to places they'd never been. Archie would sometimes get caught up in the heat of the moment, hands dipping a little too low, touch a little too wild and Jughead would shove him away, scrambling to safety though there was no safer place to be.

Archie always felt horrible, apologising profusely, eyes clouding with sadness, with self-hatred. They worked it out, they always did, and it’s not like Jug was angry with him. Archie was sixteen for Christ’s sake, of course, he was going to get carried away. It’s not like he was the only one who did things they regretted. There were a handful of times where Jughead would wake to the warm press of a body against his back and panic would burst to life in his chest, an elbow shooting out, hitting the unknown person in the face. Only it wasn’t an unknown person, it was Archie, and he was completely safe.

In the morning, he’d have a black eye or a split lip and Jug would buy him a Reese’s peanut butter cup to go with the many apologies. It was something they were working on, after a talk with Doctor Hadley about the occurring incidents they decided it was time to start exposure therapy. He chose Archie, of course, he wanted Archie, to help him through this. Jughead allowed Archie to spoon him, Archie would stroke his hair and sing softly into his ear to keep him calm. Even with Archie’s comfort, he struggled, spiralling into blinding panic the first few times before growing comfortable enough to last a few minutes without feeling afraid or triggered.

It took months for him to feel safe with Archie sleeping behind him, even to this day he still had to roll over so they were facing or shove Archie aside so he could fall back to sleep. There were a lot of ups and downs, apologies, hurdles and small little arguments that didn't last more than a few days. No matter how challenging things were they always pushed through; they loved each other and nothing was going to stop them from being together. Not the nightmares, the self-doubt, the rage, depression or all-consuming anxiety. They had finally found the path they were meant to be walking, and though the road was long and perilous, they would walk every step together.

**XxX**

_Spring arrives in a burst of colour, flowers bloom to life in well-kept gardens, the brown patches of snow melt away to reveal crisp green grass. The usual sombre sky is an endless expanse of blue dotted with white clouds that lazily drift by. Sweetwater River thaws, soon the youths of Riverdale will start daring one another to dive into the still frigid waters, they will scramble to the shore, skin tinged blue and teeth chattering wildly. The woods will come alive with birds chirping and deer bounding through the undergrowth in celebration of warmer weather._

_Spring brings Jughead and Archie to the edge of Sweetwater River, to enjoy a peaceful day away from the bright lights of Pops or the dark corners of their rooms. Fresh air and warm sun is what they need after the long, dark winter. Butterflies dance in the gentle breeze, Hot Dog and Vegas roll happily in the grass as Archie spreads out the picnic rug, and Jughead takes photos of the dogs playing, the peaceful river and the delicate flowers that are uncurling around the stumps of towering trees._

_He feels like the small buds blossoming to life, shaking off the rust and showing the world that they are still there, still alive despite it all. He is unshackling the darkness, trying to thaw the coldness in his veins under the warm sun. Spring brings life, it brings hope and maybe it's the fresh air that smells like a hundred different things or maybe it's Archie's warm smile and bright eyes, but it feels like he has let go of something. A small broken piece has slotted back into place; a string has been severed, is blowing away in the breeze, getting carried downstream where it will disappear into the depths of the rapid waters._

_He feels light, can feel the wind against his face, the joy swelling in his chest as Archie pulls him onto his lap, kissing him deeply. Turning the camera around he takes a photo_ w _hen eyes flutter open and lips part Jughead inspects his work. It’s a little off centre and blurry around the edges but they look happy, they look young and carefree, and that’s what makes it perfect in Jug’s eyes. Setting the camera aside for later Jughead returns his attention to Archie, brushing back fiery locks as he draws him in for another kiss._

_It’s easy to get lost in the beauty of the day, to get carried away in the heat of Archie’s body, to forget for a heartbeat of a moment that he is afraid of things going too far. Under the golden sun, he kisses the boy he loves recklessly, brave in the wake of spring, wanting to burst back alive as easily the flowers have done. It’s not that simple though, he is human, fragile and Archie is getting curious, is getting wound up, and without warning, he is lying Jughead down on the ground, but it's not the picnic rug beneath his back._

_Sharp blades of grass grazing at his bare skin sound the alarms, hurtling him back to a cold, night where the boy holding him down is hurting him_ , is violating him _. Shoving and hitting the body moves from where it had him pinned. Rolling to the side he gasps in desperate mouthfuls of air, trying to regain control, to tether himself to the present. The bright, warm day is lost, snuffed out by the memory of violence and pain. Choking on memories Jug does his best to breathe, to get a grip and remember where the hell he is._

_He is by Sweetwater River, it’s day out, there is warm sun shining down on him, and Archie is here, Archie wasn't trying to hurt him. Slowly, slowly, the panic releases him, letting oxygen refill his aching lungs and bring clarity. Blue eyes open to find a distressed boyfriend, who is sitting out of reach and looking guilty, ashamed. It's not Archie's fault; he is young, this is all new to them so of course there will be fuck ups and times when Archie's hormones get the better of him._

_“I’m okay” he crawls towards his best friend, sitting crossed-legged before him on the faded picnic rug. “It was just the grass… it triggered me.”_

_"I'm sorry" he hangs his head in shame, eyes darkening. "I should have thought; I'm so stupid."_

_“Archie, hey,” Jughead tilts his face up, hating the look in his eyes. Sometimes he needs these moments to be reminded that Archie is broken just like him. That Miss Grundy had dug her claws in deep, poisoning him with her words, her lies. “You’re not stupid, okay? I’m fine now, so let’s eat and enjoy the day.”_

_Archie's lips twitched into a small smile "I still feel awful, I should be more considerate."_

_"Arch, you're not inconsiderate, you're sixteen years old and this, us, we're new and just because I'm not into sex right now doesn't mean I expect you not to be." Sex was the last thing on Jughead's mind; it stirred awake fear, made phantom touches whisper over his skin, stirred awake the memory of pain between his legs. The memory he carried of sex was violent, painful and ugly. He knows that on the day he is intimate with Archie, it won’t be like that, but it’s all he knows. It has him spiralling and pulling away from Archie’s loving touch, shoving away the hands that dipped a little too low._

_Never does he blame Archie. He knows sex to be pleasurable, to be something exciting and while Miss Grundy had used him, he doesn't seem to carry the same feelings on the matter. Jug feels tainted, like Bryce's leftovers and when Archie tells him he is beautiful with a spark of lust in the depths of his amber eyes he doesn't understand. How could Archie want him, why does he wish to explore the same flesh Bryce poisoned?_

_“You are pretty irresistible” Archie teased, mood lightening just as Jug’s darkened._

_“Even after what Bryce did to me?”_

_“Juggie, you know what happened doesn’t change the way I feel about” he moved closer, always ready to make sure Jughead felt loved, to lift him out of the dark. “Why do you always think that?”_

_“I guess, I just” he chewed at the words, biting his lip to stop the tears that gathered in his eyes from falling. “I feel like Bryce stole my virginity and that I am somehow tainted and undesirable because of it.” He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts, raven locks falling into his eyes._

_“You are not any of those things” Archie reassured, brushing away the wild curls from his eyes. “Do you think I’m tainted because of what Miss Grundy did to me?”_

_“No, of course not!”_

_“Then why should you feel the same about yourself?”_

_Jughead lifted his gaze, Archie’s words sinking deep, slashing at the dark thoughts, setting him free a little more. Leaning forward he captured Archie’s lips in a sweet, whisper of a kiss, though it was brief it spoke a thousand words. A lazy breeze drifted through the trees, plucking the words from Jughead’s skin and sending them away, where they could do no more harm._

_“You also get to decide if you’re still a virgin or not.” Archie is saying, and Jughead would like to think that, but he is a man of logic and saying it doesn’t make it so. “What Bryce did to you wasn’t sex, Jug. What I did with Geraldine wasn’t really sex either. It was about power, control and that’s not what it’s supposed to be like.”_

_He is right, of course, rape is about power, Bryce wanted to cause pain, to relish in his suffering. Archie had always protected him, has been so gentle and caring and always would be. “When did you get so wise, Archie Andrews?”_

_“Since Betty and Veronica decided to be so vocal about their sex lives,” he said, nose wrinkling in mock disgust. “That and my dad paid good money for me to see a therapist.”_

_Jughead smiled, feeling lighter, a little more carefree once more. "Okay, fine, we don't know what it's like to be intimate with someone we love, but I still feel like Bryce took my first time. He's made me afraid; he's made terrified of sex. And I know, it was rape, it's not going to be like that for us, but the memories are still raw."_

_“I know, Juggie, it’s okay. I will wait” he took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “We’ll go slow, and I will never,_ ever _do anything you don’t want me to, and I will do my best to control my raging teenage hormones.”_

_“I know you’ll never hurt me, Archie” he reassured. “Don’t ever think I am afraid of you. It’s the memories that I’m scared of. When I get triggered it’s like the world washes away and I am back there, and it's terrifying.” He looks away, watching Hot Dog and Vegas play tug-a-war with a stick they have found by the edge of the lake. “We’ll get there” he knows they will, that it will take trials and errors and triggers, but they will get there. There is a far-off day where he can share himself completely with Archie, where he will not be held hostage in fear, swarmed by memories._

_"Of course, we will Jug," Archie says, a smile lighting up his face and there is not a flicker of doubt in his voice. "There is no rush; I want our first time together to be special."_

_“I’m not a delicate princess, Arch” he quipped, shoving him playfully in the shoulder. “But I would like that, and it will be special” he inched closer, resting his forehead against Archie’s, breathing him in, “because it will be with you.”_

**XxX**

Jughead has learnt that no diner can beat Pop’s. The neon lights feel strange against his skin; the booths are tacky, the coffee watery and the milkshakes missing flare. They don’t feel like home, the booths don’t hold a lifetime of memories, and the waitresses don’t know him by name, he is just another tourist passing through. Some places stir awake anxiety, there are stranger’s eyes travelling over his body, lingering too long when he and Archie walk in together. They are very careful while out in the open, the world is not a safe place, they keep their hands to themselves, words chosen wisely so not to give themselves away.

There hasn’t been any trouble in the two days they’ve been gone. Archie always enters every place with a sweet, friendly smile while Jughead follows with his head down, trying to avoid eye contact, choosing to let Archie handle all the talking. He never used to be afraid to talk to people; he was never really afraid of anything. He investigated Jason Blossom’s murder without fear, pulling secrets from unwilling tongues with ease, running headlong into danger without concern for his own safety. He must have felt invincible then, the words came with ease, and he could walk into a store or a diner with a confident stride.

He’s getting better, around town he has no trouble, but this is an unknown world, full of danger and people willing to do unspeakable acts. The day before the trip he nearly cancelled, everyone kept saying be careful, watch yourself, like he didn’t already to know to check where the exits were and keep his pocket knife in reach. He was in the kitchen with his dad, they were preparing dinner, and he felt okay. He was all packed for the trip, the anxiety was just a nervous thrum in the back of his mind, easily ignored if he focused on the task at hand.

“You packed your medication?” his dad asked from his place by the stove.

“Yes dad” he replied, arranging the salad on the plate. "I have everything okay; it's fine."

“Just checking” he appeared at his side, placing a comforting hand on his back. “You will be careful, right?”

“No, we’re going to drive recklessly and go to seedy bars” he retorted, pulling away from his father’s touch, moving towards the stove to rescue the steaks before they overcooked. “Dad, seriously, I’ve been raped remember? I don’t need reminding how fucking dangerous the world is.”

Silence fell over the room, Jughead’s words heavy in the air, he didn’t regret them. All the ‘be carefuls’ were pushing him to the edge, setting loose fears and stirring awake nightmares, creating horror shows out of the adventure he had yet to be on. He wasn't stupid; he was going to be alert in every diner and motel they stepped foot in. He’d study every face and at the slightest sign of a beast lurking within he'd grab Archie's hand and run. The world was not safe; it was full of monsters disguised as friendly neighbours, fellow students and teachers. The wolves hid in sheep’s clothing, but once you know what evil looks like it’s impossible to miss.

Jug wanted this road trip to be free of darkness; he wants to be excited, not have a fist wrap around his throat and squeeze the oxygen from his lungs as the warning bells sound. That's all it takes, one wrong word, a troubled thought and he is falling down the rabbit hole. Choking on fear, trembling as his body threatens to collapse, to give up and give in. Gripping tight to the counter he takes several deep breaths that feel like gasoline sliding down his throat, setting lungs ablaze. The world tilts and wilts, reality slipping away, leaving him to see only swirls of colours and hear only the pounding of his heart.

Down, down, down he goes, drowning in memories, suspended in fear. It hurts to breathe, to get air past the fist holding tight to his throat, cutting off the scream building in his gut. There are hands on his shoulders, strong and warm, a gentle voice whispering through the dark. Breathe, it says, you’re safe, just breathe Juggie. He follows it home, shakes the darkness off and finding himself once more in the kitchen, safe in his father’s arms. It takes a few moments until he can speak, FP sits him down at the table and bundles him in a blanket even though it’s a warm night.

“You with me, Jug?” he asked, pulling up a chair.

“Yeah, I’m back” he shakes the unpleasant feeling from his mind, holding tight to the blanket. “Sorry… It’s just… I guess I am a little anxious about going away and having everyone repeatedly tell me to be careful is making it worse.”

“I’m sorry, bub” FP leant forward, brushing the dark curls from his son’s face. “I guess you’re not the only one anxious about you leaving.”

“Maybe I should just cancel.”

“No, Juggie, you’ve been excited about this for weeks,” FP said firmly. “You are a smart kid, I know you will be okay, and if you don’t go, you’ll regret it. You need a chance to be a kid, Jug, to have fun and see the world. I won’t let you miss out on that because of me.”

His dad was right; he needed a chance to be a kid, to go on wild adventures and explore the world, to be like everyone else. Bryce didn't get to take this from him, he'd stolen enough, taken months of his life and this road trip was everything. It was long-awaited and full of endless possibilities, it was the first time he and Archie got to spend time away as a couple, and they were both so excited. Fear wouldn't hold him back; he was strong enough for this, he could face the world and all the beauty and pain it had to offer. 

***

"How are the fries?" Archie asked around the straw of his chocolate shake; there was a smudge of cream on his nose that Jughead had to resist wiping off.

“Pretty good” he replied, studying the golden chip in his hand. Jughead had been writing reviews on each diner they visited, so far nothing could beat Pop’s, but these fries were pretty damn close. “Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, it’s a good ratio.”

“You are such a dork” Archie teased, finally licking the whipped cream from his nose, “but that’s why I love you.”

Jughead shot him a look, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. The diner was quiet apart from the three truck drivers sitting at the counter and the middle-aged couple arguing by the jukebox. Turning back to Archie he flashed a smile; it said what he was too afraid to speak. When they finished their meals, they made the short walk back to their motel, when the door closed, the world locked out, Jughead drew Archie in for a kiss. 

When he stepped back, head spinning and butterflies fluttering in his chest, he whispered, “I love you too.”

Archie responded with a heated kiss, hands tangling in Jughead’s hair, knocking the beanie from his head in their haste. Eager hands tugged at clothing, shoving jackets off and clumsily pulling shirts over heads to be discarded on the floor. Jughead forgets his fear in the heat of Archie’s kisses, let’s the swirling thoughts drift to far-off places as he loses himself in the moment. It’s been a long, tiring journey to get here, to be able to have Archie shed him of his clothing and explore his exposed flesh.

Archie worships him, kissing and tracing the parts Bryce left bruised, left invisible scars. Jughead hasn’t had the courage to go all the way with Archie, he’s allowed him to pleasure him with fingers, but as of yet, he hasn't felt Archie fully inside him. He feels like he is getting closer, that soon on some hot summers night or a wild, stormy day he'll give himself entirely to Archie. There is still anxiety, a flicker of panic, flashes of Bryce's violent thrusts and he'll have to chase Archie's fingers from his body.

Sometimes their fun ends there. Most of the time he is strong enough to shake it off, change directions and instead he’ll run nimble fingers teasingly down Archie’s inner thighs, and he’ll spread his legs willingly for him. Being inside Archie feels amazing, having him panting his name and coming undone beneath him is one of the most beautiful things he’s experienced. Tonight, they are too tired to do more than give each other lazy hand jobs; it's enough to relax them, to rid them of the frustration of the day. When Jughead comes back down to earth, he kisses Archie once more before going to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. Once clean the crawl into the second bed, they always book two to avoid unwanted attention, and in the morning, they will leave, not caring about the mess they've left behind. 

Tonight, Jughead is sated, safe and sound in Archie’s arms, drifting to sleep to the sound of passing cars and his boyfriend's beating heart.

**XxX**

_The letter comes on the first of April, it’s sitting half soggy in the mailbox and would have been completely missed if Archie hadn’t pointed it to out to him. Jughead collects it, shaking off the droplets of water and squinting at the smudged ink as he leads Archie towards the house. He’s halfway up the steps when he falters, blood turning to ice in veins, air vanishing from lungs as he unfolds the letter in trembling hands. It’s from the correction centre Bryce was sent to, he is up parole, for good behaviour, and the board are asking Jughead to give a statement._

_They want to set Bryce free. It happened six months ago, and yet at this moment, it feels like it only happened yesterday. It’s taken this long to sleep through the nights, to go days without panic attacks, to feel safe even in his own home. Six months of rebuilding, of struggling, fighting to live,_ to breathe _and they want to release the monster from his nightmares back into the world._

_They want to open the gates and let the beast go free._

_This can’t be happening. Jughead can't breathe, oh god he can’t breathe. Unsteady legs give way, sending him crashing to the ground below, Archie grabs hold of him before he can fall all the way down, the world slips away, mind lost in the panic. Logically he knows Bryce won’t ever show his face in Riverdale again, but knowing he is out there, free to hurt someone else, is too much. Bryce shattered him to pieces, he took so much in just one night and now he gets to go free. He gets to walk while Jughead still struggles to recover, to survive in the ugly, shadowy world Bryce left him to rot in._

_Troubled thoughts emerge from the dark recesses of his mind, whispers filling him with dread, drowning him in sorrow, in all that he has fought to overcome. He doesn’t know when he started crying, doesn’t recall the walk to his bedroom, all he can see is Bryce’s smug smirk and sense the phantom touch of his rough hands. He shoves and hits at the strong body trying to hold him, to offer comfort, he doesn't want to be touched, he needs to breathe. Sobs tear from his throat; tears fall without mercy and the world shifts into a dark, terrifying place._

_He is under the night sky once more, choking on grass, tongue tasting like copper and earth and body vibrating from the pounding bass, the violent thrusts. There is a wall against his back, teeth digging into his bottom lip and hands grasping painfully at his arse. The images bleed and blend, swirling and twirling until there is no right way up or wrong way down, there is just violence and pain. It feels like it's happening again, like time has unravelled around him and left him suspended in this hell for all eternity._

_“Juggie, Juggie, hey, breathe.”_

_Archie, he can hear Archie’s voice pierce the veil, shining light into the dark, a tether to follow home. It feels like centuries, but eventually, he comes back to the present, gasping, sobbing, blinking away tears and memories. He’s huddled against the headboard, muscles slowly relaxing as his lungs refill, chasing the fog and panic from his mind. It takes a few more minutes to recover, to shake off the darkness and allow Archie to venture close, to crawl on the bed beside him, taking him into his arms._

_"I'm here, Juggie" he whispered, peppering him with feather-light kisses, offering something sweet and tender in the wake of this nightmare. "You're safe; you're safe."_

_“How could they consider letting him out after only six months?” He asked, words struggling to work their way up a sandpaper throat. “I have barely recovered, and they are just going to let him walk? Archie, he can’t have changed, I don’t think he’ll ever change. How can they not see that?”_

_"I don't know, Jug" he murmured. "I hate this; I hate Bryce so much for what he did to you."_

_“I was just starting to get better” he sniffled, sagging against Archie, boneless, emotionally wrecked._

_“It’s going to be okay, Juggie” Archie held him tighter, resting his cheek on the soft fabric of the worn-out beanie._

_Archie couldn’t make these kinds of promises, Jughead wished he could, wished that Archie got to control his fate, nothing bad would ever happen to him again if he did. Archie can’t pull the strings, can’t choose the path in which he is to walk, Jug has to live with the cards he’s been dealt. There are two choices, he wallows in misery, declines to attend the hearing or whatever exactly it is and Bryce will go free, will step out into the world and find another life to destroy. Or he takes a deep breath, finds courage inside his weary soul and attends the hearing, faces Bryce and makes sure that everyone knows that there is still a monster hidden within. He has to be brave, has to stop crying, stop_ breaking _and make sure Bryce can’t hurt anyone else._

_“I’m going to go” he declared, voice shaking. “I can’t let them release Bryce, not without seeing if he’s changed. If he’s sorry.”_

_“I don’t think he’ll ever be sorry.”_

_"Neither do I, Arch… but I don't need him to be" he lifted his head to meet Archie's warm gaze. "I just need him never to rape anyone again. I don't want him to hurt someone the way he did me. He'll never be sorry for what did to me, but if what I did_ to him _makes him think twice next time then I can live with that. If he gets out and this happens again, to someone else…” he trails off, words lost to broken sobs._

_“I’ll go with you if you want me to?” nimble fingers brush away the falling tears, moving up to remove Jug’s beanie and run soothingly through the unruly curls._

_“I’d like that,” he said between sobs. “Can we just lie down for a while, please?”_

_“Yeah, Juggie, of course.”_

_They lie down, limbs tangled, face to face, seeking comfort, hoping to find calmness in this raging storm._

**XxX**

Jughead wakes to a loud crash, startled he fumbles for the light, only to find empty darkness where his lamp should be. Panic sounds the alarms, bolting upright with a scream burning in his gut he is about to jump from the bed when something warm and solid grabs his arm. Shaking it off he scrambles away, teetering dangerously on the edge of the bed, eyes finally adjusting to the dark he realises this isn't his bedroom. He isn't at home; he is miles and miles away in some little motel on the edge of an insignificant town. Gulping in shaky breaths he reaches for Archie, seeing his outline in the dimly lit room, holding tight once he finds his outstretched hand.

Outside the crash comes again, making him jump, sending him closer to Archie. Light illuminates the room, scattering the darkness. Archie crawls out of bed, walks to the window and peers out. A moment later there is an echo of a door slamming shut then silence, the kind that comes in the dead of night. Archie returns to his side, offering him a tired, tender smile, they are safe, it’s just harmless noise, not a monster crashing in through the door.

“Some idiot knocked over the trash cans” Archie explained, kissing Jughead’s forehead before laying them back down. “We’re safe, Juggie.”

“Sorry” he apologised, huddling in close.

“It’s okay” Archie reassured, switched off the light and rolled over, so they were face to face, nose’s brushing lightly. “Back to sleep, big day tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Arch” Jug whispered, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

He waited for Archie’s breathing to even out before slipping out from under the covers, feeling too restless to fall back asleep just yet. He settles in the armchair, camera in hand, memories of the last few months flashing before his eyes. It was the end of winter when Jughead decided to return his attention to photography, he continued to write, but he needed something new, or something old that he’d forgotten in the madness of last year. He dusted off his camera and set out to rekindle his passion for photography, using his friends, their pets and the beautiful wildness Riverdale had to offer as inspiration.

The last few days he had been capturing their adventure, snapping images of Archie singing along to cheesy pop songs, red hair blowing wildly in the wind and eyes bright with happiness. There are pictures of the places they’ve been, a wax museum in a little ghost-like town, retro diners, vast plains of green grass, trees stretching out into infinity and intimate snaps of them in motel rooms, in the privacy of the jeep. In his hands he holds beautiful memories, a camera ready to capture more, to catalogue this grand adventure, this soul journey.

Anxiety dissipates from his veins, body growing weary with fatigue he switches the camera off and heads back to bed. Slipping under the covers he moves close to Archie, letting the steady rhythm of his boyfriends breathing lull him back to sleep.

**XxX**

_Outside is a miserable bleak day, rain falls heavily on the tin roof of the old pickup, running down the windows in rivulets. Visibility is disappearing, the highway stretching out before Jughead is fading from view, the headlights from oncoming cars look like lost souls trying to find their way home. Jughead is miles from home, sitting cramped and tired in the passenger seat of his dad’s car, wishing he was at home with Archie, curled up on the sofa or lying by the river under a bright, golden sun._

_Instead, he is driving eight and half hours across the country to visit his mum and Jellybean. It's not that he doesn't want to see them, the last time they visited he was still in the Psychiatric Hospital, and after the hearing with Bryce, his dad thought it would be good to get away from Riverdale for the weekend. It was a chance for his father to show,_ to prove _to his mum that he was sober, that he was doing better, that Jughead was getting better. It was a chance to get the family together again, and yet Jug had a terrible feeling it wasn’t going to happen._

_Too much had happened, things were so different, and in truth, Jughead wasn’t sure he wanted his mum to come home. Ever since he was raped things between them were strained, whenever they spoke, she sounded reserved, it felt like a huge distance had opened between them, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He tried, he did, but he was fighting every day just to make it through, and he was so tired. He wanted to focus on the good things in his life, like Archie, their up and coming road trip, photography, writing, his friends, both old and new. He didn’t want to dwell on the parts of his life that were still broken._

_At least he was looking forward to seeing Jellybean; he'd missed her dearly. A few weeks after being released from the hospital he started writing her letters, and when he picked up his camera again, he began sending her some of his pictures as well. She loved them, it inspired her to follow in his footsteps, and a few days later she found an old Polaroid camera at a garage sale and started taking her own photos. They were good; she had talent, she sent him snapshots of her new life that he longed to be evolved in. She sent him funny little stories, spoke about music, movies, books, school and everything in-between. At the end of each letter, she would always ask, curious and seeking the truth, what happened to him._

_They all agreed she was far too young to know what happened, she wouldn't understand, and Jughead didn't want to shatter her innocence. She knew something happened though; she sensed that her brother wasn't quite the same. There was a missing piece, and she wanted to know where it went, how to find it. He would tell her the truth one day, when she was older, for now, he tells her not to trouble herself, he is fine, she doesn't believe him, and the questions keep coming._

_Betty had helped him find an answer, the truth half revealed without the ugliness, the four-letter word that Jellybean wouldn't know the meaning of. He'll tell her a bad person,_ a monster _hurt him, and it made him very sad, but the monster was gone now, locked away in a dungeon never to see the light of day. The truth is vastly different though. Bryce may still be locked away, but not forever. He would be out right now if Jughead didn’t face off against a roomful of strangers, telling them that Bryce had not changed, that he was not sorry. He stood before six people who didn’t really care that his world had been torn apart, that what Bryce did to him would forever haunt him._

_He made them care in the end though, he stood tall and strong and told the truth. Bryce was dangerous; he violated him without mercy, he nearly killed him, by raping him, by lying, by turning the school against him. Bryce raped him and when Jughead saw him, talked to him, stomach in knots and words sharp and painful in his throat, he could tell he was not sorry. He'd never be sorry, and Jughead would never be whole again. He made them listen, had tears welling in their eyes, and when he walked out of that too bright room, fighting back tears, he knew that they saw the truth. He felt pride swell within his chest as he collapsed into Archie’s waiting arms. He might have just saved someone from the same cruel fate._

_Now he is halfway from home, and his dad is pulling over because it's too dangerous to keep driving in the storm. Sorrow is heavy in his bones today; it's been difficult recovering from the visit with Bryce and the hearing. It was a terrifying wait to see if he would be released when the courtesy letter arrived, it felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest. Breath held tight; trembling fingers ripped open the envelope. The air rushed out of his lungs, and he titled his head back in relief, sending a silent thank you to whatever beings were out there._

_Bryce Danvers would stay in prison, it wouldn’t be long until he was released, but for now Jughead could breathe, could heal knowing that the monster from his nightmares was still locked away. Held tight in his father’s arms he sobbed in relief, and when the tears dried, he went to tell Archie the good news. The rest of the day he was went by uneventfully; Jughead felt a heaviness lifting from his soul but slowly over the course of the following days he started a downward spiral. Maybe it was just all the fear, the anxiety escaping from his system. He'd been wound up, ready to fall apart but not willing to show it, to give into the darkness._

_He bottled everything up, and this was the downfall. It had followed him from his home, through town and miles away, to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. It was an ugly, thick dark cloud hanging over his head, filling the cabin with despair. It's going to be a long day; the storm isn't letting up anytime soon, the one outside and the one inside his head,_ his heart _. He can feel his dad’s eyes studying him carefully, can practically hear the gears and cogs turning in search of the right words to say, to bring about a smile or at least lift his spirits._

_“He’s still locked away, Juggie,” FP said, and Jughead is a little surprised that his dad saw right into his wild, racing mind and plucked out the correct reason for his distress. “That’s what’s on your mind, right?”_

_Jughead looked over at his dad, catching the sadness, the flicker of hopelessness in his eyes. “I know, but he won’t be forever.”_

_“Jug, whatever happens after Bryce is released, whatever he does, isn’t on you” he declared, resting a reassuring hand on Jug’s shoulder, squeezing tightly to emphasise his words. "You have done all you can; now It's time to let it go. It is not up to you to protect everyone."_

_Jughead sighs, eyes fluttering closed, his father’s words settling over him. He is right, one-day Bryce will go free, and Jughead won’t know where he is, will hopefully never see his face again, and no matter what follows, Jughead did the right thing. He told the truth, he made sure Bryce was punished, that he knew what he did was wrong and perhaps one-day Bryce might change, might understand that what he did was wicked, cruel. Or he’ll never change, and that isn’t on Jughead. He has done all he can to protect the innocent, and he is not responsible for whatever life Bryce chooses to live._

_There is a shift, the storm clouds part, and a beam of light pierces the dark, and when he opens his eyes, the rain has slowed to a steady downpour. He has given enough of his life to Bryce, lost enough sleep and happiness to him, it’s time to break away. In the middle of nowhere he will leave this behind, he gets to move on with his life now, he gets to live, to laugh, to love. He deserves to recover, to be free of sorrow and anger. He’s done enough, given enough, now is the time to fully let go of the monster tethering him to the past._

**XxX**

It's a spur of the moment decision to stop at the fair. They have been on the road for a little over three hours when Archie decides it’s time for a break, behind the wheel Jughead agrees, since Archie has been fidgeting in his seat for the past hour. Twenty minutes down the road is a turn off to a town called Fells Church, another seemingly wholesome American town. Jughead doesn’t trust appearances anymore, just because a place looks peaceful, safe, doesn’t make it so. Beyond the neatly manicured gardens, behind closed doors is where the masks are peeled away, the monsters revealed in dark rooms where no one can see.

Outside, under the summer sun and standing among a crowd in a fair overflowing with screaming, delighted children and at Archie’s side, he is safe. Dizzy from rides, from laughing harder than he has in months he follows Archie into the maze, which is nothing more than stacked up hay bales that twist and turn around them. In the heart of the maze, Archie takes his hand, pulling him in for a kiss that tastes like cotton candy. It’s a bold move, anyone could walk around the corner, but right now Jughead doesn’t care, he holds Archie close, kisses him deeply and savours this precious moment.

Jughead could get used to feeling like this, happy and carefree in a way he’s never been. Bold and brave and so deeply in love. He’ll hold tight to these moments, cherish them before they can blow away in the storm still raging within. He has learnt to master the winds, calm the wild seas, but even after all this time he can still lose control, capsize in the open waters of his mind. It doesn’t happen as much it used too, with a deep breath he can expel the darkness, the negative thoughts and find himself once more in the light.

Stepping out of the maze, Archie grabs his hand and drags him towards a stand, in the backdrop are a wall of stuffed animals, and five ugly red-nosed clowns with gaping mouths rotating side to side are placed before it. Jughead watches in silence as Archie pelts rubber balls at the clowns, his skills in football helping him to win. He turns towards Jughead with a plush toy Panther in his arms, handing it to him like this is some cute coming of age movie, and they are the stars. He accepts the gift, rolling his eyes as he turns to walk away, Archie falling into step beside him, once more taking his hand.

Jughead’s first instinct is to pull away, put some distance between them even though he needs to hold tight to Archie. The crowd and noise is making him anxious, and Archie’s warm touch is the only thing that keeps him grounded, makes him feel safe. He makes a choice not to let go, to never let go. Screw what these people think. He’ll never see them again, and soon this town will be a speck in the rear-view mirror. Jughead wants to feel like a normal teenager, wants to walk through the world holding his boyfriend's hand and find happiness in cotton candy kisses and hidden deep within mazes.

He wants cute coming of age movie moments, he wants to kiss Archie on the Ferris Wheel, to be given silly stuffed toys that Archie won just for him and he doesn’t care if the world sees. They have suffered enough, they deserve these shiny, glittery moments of happiness, of love.

**XxX**

_Jughead is woken by the buzzing of his cell, shaking the fog from his mind he fumbles in the dark for the phone, answering with a croaky hello. He was dead to the world, exhausted after the weekend away and the long drive home. Time spent with his family in Toledo hadn't been horrible, it had been years since he saw his grandparents but they treated him like fragile glass, going to painful lengths to avoid talking about what happened to him. It wasn't the most fantastic weekend away, at least seeing Jellybean had lifted his spirits and things between him and his mum shifted after they spent time together, talking about everything and nothing._

_He isn't sure she will return to Riverdale, she likes her new life and so does Jellybean and Jughead doesn't want either of them to give up their happiness. So maybe the Jones's will part ways, perhaps it's time for something new for them all. He is surprisingly okay with that, he still has his dad, his friends, his boyfriend and his mum and Jellybean may be out of reach but they are still there. His mum hasn’t forgotten him, she loves him, and it’s been difficult for her to accept what happened to him. But they are okay now, things will get better, and regardless of what comes next Jughead is alive, he has found happiness in the wake of tragedy._

_“Archie” he whispered through the line, “what are you doing awake?”_

_“I was thinking about you” he answered, Jughead could hear the smile in his voice, imagines him staring up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, “and then I was really thinking about you.”_

_It takes a moment for the meaning of Archie’s words to pierce the fog still clouding his mind when they do, he sits up, flicking on the lamp and rushing towards his bedroom door to close it. “Um, okay” he doesn’t know what to say, there is heat creeping across his cheeks, and he feels both awkward and flattered. He isn’t sure what Archie wants from him, things between them have been heating up lately, mostly on Archie’s part but he’s made enough progress that he can allow Archie’s hand to wander._

_They haven’t done anything sexual, Jughead is left flushed and buzzing after their heated make outs, but he has yet to have an erection. Unlike Archie who is left hard and aching as Jughead pushes him off, needing to breathe, to calm down. He felt bad for Archie, who would groan in frustration and desire, then kiss him on the cheek or forehead before disappearing to take care of himself. Jughead would stay lying on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling and will himself to get up, follow Archie and do something._

_He never finds the courage to rise, the desire to touch Archie even though he wants to on some level. It's driving him mad, he must be driving Archie made, and he feels guilty as hell. It's ridiculous; he is almost there. He can stand Archie's hand roaming over his bare chest, dipping low to dance over his stomach and move around to his back, wanting to go lower again, to touch him where only Bryce has been. Fear freezes him or has him pushing Archie off, he never complains, always stops and makes sure that Jug is okay before getting up for a shower._

_He should just let Archie touch him, even for a few brief seconds, the way they did when Jughead was learning to get used to Archie spooning him. Now he can last five minutes without feeling anxious, and he doesn’t panic if he wakes to find Archie sleeping behind him. He decides that this is what they will do, he’ll rip off the band-aid and let Archie’s hands dip low. Right now, Archie is still on the line, heavy breathing coming through the phone and Jug still hasn’t said anything other than ‘Um, okay’._

_“I did something,” Archie said, voice husky and Jug finds it sends pleasant shivers racing up his spine._

_“What did you do?” he is sitting on the bed, switching off the lamp, so his father doesn’t wake and ruin this intimate moment._

_“I kept thinking about you, how beautiful you are and I had woken up from this really amazing dream” he revealed, words hushed so not to disturb the silence of the night. “I woke up hard and wanting you so much Jug. I know you’re not ready and I respect that, but I hope it’s okay that I thought about you.”_

_“Of course,” it’s flattering to hear Archie speak like this, to know that he is the reason for Archie’s arousal, that he is in his dreams, on his mind._

_"I…" he pauses, Jughead can hear him lick his lips. "I wanted to know what it felt like to do more than jerk off, so I touched myself" he swallowed, Jughead felt strange, felt prickly and flushed and a little bit excited. "I fingered myself open thinking of you, and it was incredible Jug. Like at first it was kinda weird, felt a little uncomfortable, but it didn't take long to start feeling good."_

_Jughead can only breath, images of Archie with his slender fingers trailing down his body, dancing over chiselled abs, going past course hair and disappearing inside made his dick twitch. Jug often thought about what it would feel like to be penetrated by loving fingers, Archie's cock. His mind would flood with memories of pain, of feeling too full, of bleeding and fear would choke the desire from his body, and the thoughts would scatter. Hearing Archie say how incredible it felt, had something shifting, had an itch stirring awake that he might eventually need to scratch._

_“I just wanted to tell you,” he said, sounding tired now. “So, you knew that it wasn’t painful and that when or_ if _we do have sex, I am happy to bottom first or let you touch me like this whenever you are ready. That way you can see it’s okay, that it feels good.”_

_Oh, sweet Archie Andrews, he had done this for Jug, had let his fingers go where they hadn’t been before to prove to Jughead that it wasn’t painful, that it would feel good. Jughead wasn’t ready to test this out tonight, he needed to sleep, to think but Archie had done something, had started something. The point of this phone call might be to show Jug that Archie adored him, that he dreamt of him and woke hard, aching and needed to touch himself to the thoughts of him. But it helped Jughead too, helped him to finally see that pleasure could be found if he lets his fingers do the walking. He too might find the same ecstasy Archie just had._

_“When I’m ready” he whispered, “I’ll try it.”_

_“You’ll like it Jug, but take your time.”_

_“I will” he promised, lids growing heavy “Goodnight, Archie.”_

_“Night Juggie.”_

_Sighing contently, Jughead settled back into bed, drifting off to sleep with thoughts of Archie chasing him into his dreams._

*******

_The following Friday night Jughead wakes up hard, head filled with memories of breathy moans and Archie writhing in pleasure. The phone is in his hand and Archie is answering hello before Jug can change his mind, let fear chase desire from his body. It’s been nearly seven months since he’s been hard; since he's dreamt of sex in a passionate, intimate way. The other night Archie stirred awake new desires, left him feeling a fire in his belly and his mind curious._

_The following day he couldn’t get the late-night phone call off his mind, every time he caught Archie’s eyes he blushed, feeling heat rush through him. That afternoon after school he spent a few hours researching, learning all the do’s and don’ts of anal fingering. The following day he bought a tube of lube and kept it stuffed in his bedside drawer for when he was ready. He was ready now, lust fuelled and curious, eager to explore._

_“I dreamt about you” his voice sounded strange, too loud in the quiet hours before dawn. “It was... We were” he wished he knew the right words to say. Archie had sounded so confident the other night, so God damn sexy and here he is, the master of words, struggling to string a sentence together. They had always been opposites, Archie fumbled his way through life, awkward and cheerful while Jughead was the sleuth, the sure-footed cat with a swift tongue. Of course, when it came to sex he would be the one blushing and unsure, but Archie is waiting for him to finish and his dick is straining in his boxers, and there is a bottle of lube waiting to be used._

_"Having sex" Archie supplied, voice light and alert and Jughead imagines Archie had been awake, sitting in a disarray of papers as he worked on new songs._

_“You were under me… I was inside you, and now I’m hard for the first time in months, and I am not really sure what the hell I am doing” he confessed, stopping to breathe, to regain control of himself. He’s got this. “I want to touch myself, I want to feel my fingers inside, but I want you to talk to me, so my mind won’t wander.”_

_“I’m right here, Jug” he vowed, voice growing silky with lust._

_“Okay, umm, hang on” he sat up, rummaging around in his drawer for the lube he hid beneath underwear and socks. Lying back down he takes a deep breath, letting it expel the anxiety from his body, then he shimmies out of his underwear. “Sorry, had to use the light of my phone to find the lube.” He mumbled, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear so he can unscrew the cap and squeeze a sizable amount of gel onto his hands and fingers, spreading it evenly. “Um, what did you do? Like where did you start?”_

_“Slowly” he replied. “I touched myself with one hand while I let the other dip lower, just trace the rim first, and I stroked myself while I did it. Take your time, okay.”_

_“Okay” slowly, he reached between his legs, grasping his aching member lightly, moaning at the touch, ancient memories of nights spent alone thinking of Archie bursting to life in his mind. God, he used to enjoy this, he’d never been overly horny but when he did find himself aroused it was always because of Archie. “Oh god, I forgot how good this feels.”_

_“You’re making me hard.”_

_“Touch yourself” he ordered, increasing the speed of his strokes, letting his other hand dip lower, grazing over his balls as it reached its destination. He does as Archie instructed, slowly tracing the tip of his finger around the rim, enjoying the pleasant sensation._

_“God, Jug” he groaned, there was the sound of movement, of clothes rustling and drawers opening stealthy in the dead of night. “Don’t forget plenty of lube.”_

_"Don't worry; I did some light reading" he teased, feeling relaxed yet electric and alive at the same time. "I couldn't stop thinking about it after we spoke."_

_“Me either” he panted. “When you are ready Jug I am going to make you feel so good. I’m going to worship every part of you.”_

_Jughead moaned low in his throat, feeling brave, feeling ready he slowly pressed the tip of his finger into himself, breathing deeply as it slipped past the tight muscles. It felt strange, not painful or horrible just different. “How many fingers did you get in?”_

_“Two,” Archie said, sound a little breathless “Could go for three next time. Maybe one day it can be your fingers.”_

_Archie's words were like fire, they sent every nerve ablaze and had Jughead thrusting up into his hand, finger slipping a little deeper with the sudden movement. Words are lost, the fantasy of having Archie's warm body pressed against his had bravery stirring awake. He slowed his hand down, letting fingers tease the head of his cock, spreading precum as he slowly started to thrust the digit inside himself. It took a few moments then he felt a burst of pleasure that made his toes curl, made him moan a little too loud._

_“Tell me what you’re doing, Jug.”_

_"I'm stroking myself, just the head" he moved his finger again, searching for the spot, after another burst of fireworks. "I have one finger inside; it feels good. I think I could let you do this one day."_

_“It’ll be amazing.”_

_God, it would be, it was amazing like this. Jughead's eyes slipped shut, Archie's breathy moans filled his mind, and he increased the tempo of his strokes, deepened the thrusts of his finger. It was almost too much; it had been so long since he felt flooded with pleasure, mind losing all focus as the world was lost to ecstasy. He tried to make it last as long as he could, but he was young, hadn’t touched himself in months, and it felt like heaven. Soon he was coming hot and sticky in his hand, Archie’s orgasm following, they moaned each other’s names, painting heavily in the aftermath. Jughead felt a shift, felt tears trickle free, a sob builds painfully in his throat._

_“Are you okay, Juggie?” Archie asked, there was the sound of fabric again, he would be cleaning himself up from the mess he made, the mess they made._

_“Yeah” he choked out, more tears falling. “I’m not upset, that was just a lot.” He realises his finger is still inside, and he slowly withdraws it when he sits up to see the mess between his legs he is almost surprised that there is no blood. He collapses back, sobbing, wiping his fingers on the sheets as he takes hold of the cell again. “Sorry, I am okay, I just feel overwhelmed.”_

_“It’s okay” he whispered, “Do you want me to come over?”_

_“It’s the middle of the night, and it’s a ten-minute drive.”_

_"Don't care." He said, mind already made up, "I'll come to the window, okay?"_

_“Okay,” he sniffled, smearing the tears from his face, feeling a little gross with the mess left on the bed. “I’m going to clean up.”_

_“I’ll be there soon, Jug.”_

_The room was silent without Archie’s breathing, Jughead switched on the lamp and busied himself by stripping the top sheet which he’d used to clean his hands on. He kicked it to the corner and used his underwear to clean off any spots of gel and cum from the remaining bed covers. Redressing in a clean shirt and pulling up his boxers he tip-toed out of the room, casting a nervous glance towards his father’s bedroom, it was dark and silent. Ducking into the bathroom, he quickly washed his hands clean before splashing the cool water onto his face, needing to feel refreshed. When he walked back into the bedroom, he sat down on the bed and waited for Archie._

_Ten minutes later he appeared, taping on the glass to wake Jug from the slumber he'd succumbed to. Getting up he crossed the short distance and opened the window to allow Archie entry, he shimmied in, stumbled and knocked over a stack of books. They held their breath, waiting, listening, when no disturbance came Archie stood up, and they crawled into bed._

_“How are you such a klutz out of bed, Archie,” he asked teasingly._

_"It's dark, Jughead" he retorted, shoving him playfully. "Besides, we haven't had sex yet; there is still time for me to do something embarrassing in bed."_

_Jughead stifled a laugh, feeling light, giddy, the strange wave of emotions from before having dissipated. “I love you, Archie” and he does, with all his heart, with all his broken soul he loves him._

_“I love you too, Jug” he kissed him, tenderly, leisurely. “Are you okay though?”_

_“Just overwhelmed, Arch, but I’m fine now, I promise.” He snuggled closer, fatigue creeping in “Let’s get some sleep, dad won’t care that you’re here.”_

_“Why did I come through the window then?”_

_“Fulfilling teenager clichés?” he offered._

_Archie chuckled softly, kissed him once more than settled beside him. Jughead sighed contently, let all thoughts slip away as he drifted to sleep, safe and sound, in Archie’s arms. In the morning, they would be a little closer, a little bit stronger and even more deeply in love._

**XxX**

Jughead has always loved a good ghost story, growing up, Halloween was always his favourite holiday. He, Archie and Betty would go trick-or-treating together every year, dressed in the costumes Betty had hand made for them. Walking the streets late at night, roads scattered with dying leaves, dogs barking in the distance had seemed spooky at the time. A shadow looming ahead could be a ghoul, a piercing shriek could be a banshee warning of impending death, the little things had seemed terrifying once upon a time, now they had all seen what the true monsters look like.

They didn't appear when the sun goes down; they didn't have sharp fangs or long claws, they were not vampires or beasts. They were human; they existed in the daylight, wore letterman jackets and flowy skirts. Monsters did exist, one took a great deal from Jughead, today though he was going to get something back. It wasn't until about five months after Bryce raped him that he was able to watch a horror movie from start to finish. Usually, he could sit through a dozen of them, unflinching, sleeping that night without weird or disturbing dreams, but Bryce had ruined that, had turned his favourite past time into a trigger.

Jughead had almost lost another thing he loved to Bryce Danvers, but he persisted, he worked hard to take control of the anxiety, to cope with triggers and months later he can finally walk into an old abandoned hotel that the locals claim to be haunted. It's not quite a horror movie, though he has been able to watch a few, but he can't do it alone, Cheryl and Sabrina join him and with them by his side he can make it through to the end. He is getting better; everything is getting better day by day, piece by piece.

The ancient, decrepit hotel towers above him, dark clouds hang low in the sky, a gloomy backdrop to an eerie, desolate place. It’s quiet, the hotel stands on the outskirts of town, left to rot and decay in an overgrown field of grass and wilting trees. It would have been grand once, bustling with guests, with life, now it is an empty hollowed place but when the wind blows Jughead swears he can hear music, a sweet, bone-chilling melody. The grounds are said to be haunted if one steps inside they will find ghosts waiting, trapped souls who lost their lives the night three people went mad and butchered them all.

Or maybe there was a fire or the chief poisoned the guests, or it was a suicide pact, the story is inconsistent, everyone seems to have a new tale to tell. This building could be filled with nothing more than cobwebs and dust, memories of better times scattering the floors. Jughead wants to go in and find out, see if it’s icy cold inside like they say it is, see if it feels like death and misery the way Thornhill Manor does. He goes to walk up the concert steps, to explore this once grand hotel when Archie tugs at his hand.

“Do we have to?” Archie doesn’t like horror movies, doesn’t like creepy tales or things that go bump in the night, but he’d follow Jughead through hell.

“You don’t have to” Jughead answered, smiling softly, “but I’m going to, I want to get some good shots. I heard you can capture spirits on camera.”

“You don’t even really believe in ghosts” Archie protested.

“Archie Andrews, I neither believe nor disbelieve in ghosts” he replied, lacing their fingers together and getting ready to tug Archie up the steps. “C’mon, I am sure the only thing in there is rats.”

“That’s worse” he grimaced “and fine, but if we die, I am blaming you.”

“Sounds reasonable” he agreed, dragging Archie up the last few remaining steps and through the front doors that would have once been gleaming mahogany with stained glass windows, now it was faded and the glass long gone. Inside Jughead finds them standing in the foyer, the carpeted flooring is stained, torn and rotting beneath their feet, the once grand bifurcated staircase looks ready to crumble. The air smells rotten, it’s eerily silent, strangely cold given that it’s a blisteringly sweltering day outside.

Jughead doesn’t know what happened here if any or all the stories are true, he just knows without a doubt that something terrible happened here. Something cruel, something wicked happened here long ago, something that left an echo of misery in the air, an imprint of evil on the walls. Suddenly he doesn't want to be here; this isn't fun now he knows what it feels like to be taken by the darkness, to be violated, left a ghost, a story to be told late at night. Archie must sense the sudden hitch of his breathing, the way his fingers tremble and shoulders tense. He takes Jug's hand and leads them out of this hollowed out empty space and back into the blinding daylight. 

***

They sit in silence, the world rolling by as Archie drives down the highway. Jughead feels uneasy, feels a little ridiculous for getting spooked by an abandoned building. Once he would have spent hours exploring such a place, turning over every scrap of paper and searching every room to piece together a forgotten story. Now all he can do is turn tail and run, feel afraid of the shadows and the secrets hidden in them. He is frustrated; he is tired of trying to piece himself back together only to find the pieces no longer fit.

Time keeps passing, and Bryce still has a hold over him, from his prison cell he pulls Jughead’s strings, and away he runs from the things he once loved, enjoyed, now he only finds fear. Twist and tug and Jug will push Archie away, unable to take the last step. Everyone says it takes time, but it’s been nine months, and he wants his life back, to not find fear in the dark, in empty places. He wants to shake off the rust, cut the last string tethering him to the past and finally be free, finally be able to breathe. To give himself entirely to Archie, to not have triggers, strings, to live without fear. 

The Jeep comes to a stop on the side of the road; it's getting late, the sun sinks low on the horizon. Archie turns to face him, resting a strong hand on his slim shoulder, a comforting touch to bring him back from the brink. Sighing he expels the darkness, deflating under Archie's warm gaze, letting the anxiety float away. He has to stop punishing himself, he tried, he crossed the threshold, and that’s something, it’s a start. Maybe once you’ve touched the darkness, it leaves an imprint, leaves you able to sense it in places, in others. Perhaps it’s a gift, a power to know without a doubt that someone is wicked, that a tragedy had taken place.

“Are you okay Juggie?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Arch” he replied, offering his boyfriend what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just a little disappointed in myself.”

“Hey, you tried, and that’s what matters” Archie encouraged. “That place gave me the creeps though, think we can stick to non-haunted hotels from now on?”

Jughead laughed, feeling his spirits lift “Yeah, sure Archie.”

Archie leant over, kissing Jughead softly, “I’m proud of you” he whispered, resting their foreheads together, breathing in the same warm air, basking in the golden glow of the setting sun.

**XxX**

_It's a Wednesday afternoon when Jughead finds courage. He is tangled up in Archie, lips red and swollen from kissing, shirts discarded on the floor, jeans tight and uncomfortable as erections strain to be free. Jughead invited Archie over after school to help him study for the coming exams, the house was empty, FP was working late on the construction site, and the boys had free reign. They had started off studying, that turned into playful flirting, and it wasn't long until Jughead was moaning Archie's name as he trailed kisses down his throat, no doubt leaving small bruises behind._

_Jughead feels brave, is filled with desire, bloodstream burning with fire, body yearning to be touched, to be explored. It’s been three weeks since he rang Archie in the middle of the night and they shared a very intimate moment in the cover of darkness. Jughead has let his fingers explore a few times since then, finding that he deeply enjoys the sensation of a finger slipping inside, finding nerves he never knew he had. For the first time, he feels like a typical teenage boy with a working libido and desires leading him to fantasise about the red headed boy who is kissing him like there is no tomorrow._

_It's bravery that has him whispering into Archie's mouth that he wants him to touch him, that he wants to feel his fingers inside of him. Archie hesitates, stopping to make sure he is ready, that he isn't rushing ahead as he has in the past. Today is different though; he is alive and electric and so ready to take this step, to allow Archie's fingers to explore where they haven't been before. Jughead is still a little nervous as he shimmies out of his jeans, he feels vulnerable without his layers, he is exposed completely to Archie, to his beautiful lust filled amber eyes._

_“If you want me to stop I will” Archie promises, slicking his fingers with lube, breathing heavy in desire and his own nerves._

_“I know” Jughead tilts his head up, capturing Archie’s lips in a tender kiss. “I trust you.”_

_It’s not a perfect experience, it’s a little awkward and strange, and it takes a few tries for Jughead to allow Archie to breach his entrance. It’s real and beautiful even if Jug feels a flicker of fear beneath the surface. Archie is gentle, he stops whenever Jug asks him to, and when his finger finally slips inside, he gives Jug a few moments to adjust, waiting for permission to continue. Jughead watches Archie, not wanting to close his eyes, partly in fear of getting lost in a dark memory and partly because he doesn’t want to miss out on the sight before him._

_Soon though the pleasure has lashes fluttering shut, back arching off the bed as Archie slowly stretches him open. It’s a haze of ecstasy, Archie has two fingers inside of him and the other hand stroking his cock, bringing him to the edge. It’s messy and sweet, he comes with Archie’s name on his tongue and collapses spent and overwhelmed against the bed, weeping softly. Archie wraps him in his strong arms, chasing the tears away with tender kisses._

_“Are you okay?” he asked, voice rough and lust filled, he is still painfully hard, and Jughead reaches out a trembling hand to wrap around his cock, stroking him in time with his pounding heart._

_“Yeah, it’s just a lot” he mumbled, focusing on Archie’s hitched breathing, enjoying the way his hips twitch in excitement at his touch._

_“You don’t have to” he pants, meaning Jug doesn’t have to get him off but he wants to, it feels good to take control._

_“I want to” he declared, shifting closer to kiss him deeply, increasing his strokes, “do you want me to finger you too?”_

_Archie’s eyes widen at the offer, he looks like he might say no or tell Jug only if he is ready, but he must see the spark in Jug’s eyes because he says yes. Once more it’s a little awkward and messy, they are both so new to this, and it's going to take practice, time and patience. Jughead moves his fingers the same way Archie did, stretching him open and jerking him off, letting the once silent house fill with moans and the smell of sex. Archie comes hot in his hand, muscles clenching around his fingers and Jug thinks that would feel amazing against his dick._

_He has been brave enough today, they are spent and covered in sweat and cum and will have to shower before FP arrives home. Right now, Jughead is happy to lie down next to Archie, breathe in the smell of them and bask in the aftermath of this beautifully imperfect moment._

**XxX**

It's a long, winding journey but eventually, Jughead and Archie make it to Chicago. They are staying with Mary for a few days before heading back to Riverdale. The day was spent sight-seeing and exploring all that the windy city had to offer. Evening has fallen over the city, lights and colour burst to life, people pour out of towering office buildings and head towards the flashy bars to get drinks with work friends or make the long drive home. The city is alive and pulsing with energy, Friday night brings out those looking for a good time, a night spent staying up dancing or browsing the twilight markets.

Jughead looks up at the night sky as he walks hand in hand with Archie through the bustling market place, trying to find a hint of glittering stars, but the city is too bright for them to be seen. Jughead for once doesn't feel overwhelmed in the crowded space, Archie's hand is a warm, reassuring anchor. Today had been wonderful; they had done silly touristy things, felt wild and free as they travelled through the city. Tonight, they have settled, sated and happy after a delicious meal at a fancy restaurant.

Archie had surprised him with a romantic dinner in a lavish four-star restaurant that was dimly lit by candle light. It was more than he ever expected of Archie, it was more than he felt he deserved. Archie must have sensed the shift in his mood, catching the look of uncertainty flickering in his eyes, because he reached across the table and took his hand and all Jug’s worries fluttered away. Muscles relaxing, darkness receding he was able to enjoy his meal, to cherish the way the flames flickered in Archie’s eyes and how incredibly handsome he looked in the golden glow of the light.

In that moment, he fell utterly in love with Archie. He’d always loved Archie, then one day the childlike feelings blossomed into something else. He slowly, but surely fell deeper in love with him over the coming years. At that moment, he fell completely in love with Archie. He submerged himself in Archie’s love, got lost in the depth of his eyes, gave all of his jagged heart to the boy next door. He couldn’t stop smiling, stomach swirling with butterflies, heart rejoicing at its freedom from the cage it had been kept locked within. It had taken months of rebuilding, of facing demons and fighting to reach the light. He found it, miles from home, in a wild, windy city, across from the boy he loved.

Now they are sitting under the night sky, on a rolling hill that overlooks the city and all its chaos, beauty, pain and love, and from here Jug can see a few twinkling stars. Resting his head against Archie's shoulder, lacing their fingers together, he lets out a contented sigh. It's been one hell of a journey, one that is not yet over, but finally, he has reached happiness. Finally, he has found himself. He's different from the boy he used to be; he is no longer the mess Bryce made of him, he is someone else altogether. Someone who is strong, who has been through hell and came out fighting, still able to love and cherish life.

Under the night sky with its glittering stars and full moon, the pieces fall back into place.

It’s only fitting, since months ago, under the same sky, miles from here, he was taken apart.

**XxX**

Jughead wakes to the sound of rain. Untangling himself from Archie and the bed covers he tip-toes over to the window, drawing back the curtain to find the bright sunny day of yesterday has been lost to a brewing storm. The rain runs in rivulets down the window, the trees bend and sway in the force of the wind, sky flashes with blinding white light that is followed by loud rumbles. There will be no running around the city today, not that Jughead minds, a day spent relaxing with Archie, watching the storm unfold seems perfect to him.

There is a slight knock on the door which stirs Archie awake, who groans and rolls over, searching for Jug. The door creaks open, Mary steps in looking rather overdressed for a rainy Saturday morning. She is here to inform them that she has to go to work for a few hours, a client crisis but she will be back later, and there is plenty of food for breakfast and a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Once she is gone, Jughead crawls back into bed, straddling Archie, who smiles tiredly up at him.

“Morning,” he says, lifting his head off the pillow to meet Jug half way in a lazy kiss.

“Morning” he echoes, tangling his fingers in Archie’s dishevelled fiery red locks, moving in to deepen the kiss, turn it into something as electric as the storm outside these four walls.

When he woke this morning, lingering in bed, listening to the wind, he felt something new stir awake within him. It came like fire, burning hot and bright, courage and desire surging through his veins, beating in his heart. He was ready. He was ready to give himself completely to Archie. To feel Archie inside of him. It won’t be their first time, over the past few months they’ve had sex, they have explored and done very intimate things with each other. Jughead has been inside Archie a handful of times, there have been blowjobs, fingering, hand jobs and Jug even felt comfortable enough to allow Archie to pleasure him with a small vibrator.

But he had yet to find the desire, the courage to let Archie penetrate him. There was fear standing in the way, memories holding him hostage. He could handle and even enjoyed toys and fingers but the thought of Archie being inside him terrified him. Until now. There was peace in his heart, steadiness in his bones that had him removing their clothes, retrieving the lube and showing Archie that he was ready, that he wanted to _feel_ him inside.

It takes a few tries before Jug can sink down onto Archie’s member, breathing deeply through the stretch, the strange sense of full, too full. Archie whispers sweet words to him, tells him he is beautiful, how much he adores him, _loves him_. He strokes Jug's cock, the other hand rubbing soothing circles on a trembling thigh. It's hard not to get lost in the memories, to find himself hurtled back to the party from hell, but Archie's voice, his touch, tether him to the now.

At last, he starts to gently rock his hips, feeling pleasure stir awake, making him brave, bold. Archie sits up, they jostle around a little, but eventually, Jug is seated on his lap, riding him as Archie winds strong arms around his pale body, kissing him like he is the most precious thing in the world. They move as one; limbs entwined, there is no beginning or end, they are joined in every way, finally whole. Jug is lost to the pleasure, the serenity of finding himself in pure ecstasy, of coming apart and together in Archie’s arms.

They arrive together, names climbing up their throats only to be lost in the sound of roaring thunder. Jughead collapse beside Archie, who holds him close, kissing him deeply. Later they will have to shower and change the sheets, for now, Jughead is content to lay in Archie's arms, body sweat-soaked, sticky and pleasantly sore and mind at peace.

**XxX**

They arrive home three days later, travel weary, full of stories and even more in love than when they left. When Archie drops Jug off, they spend ten minutes sharing a long goodbye, kissing each other hungrily, neither willing to step back, to be apart. Eventually Jughead pulls himself away, lips red, slightly swollen and tingling, he walks into the house with a smile on his face and a few hickeys blossoming to life on his neck. His father does them both the courtesy of not mention them; instead he engulfs Jug in a strong embrace. Hot Dog bounds excitedly into the room, Jughead bends down to greet him with a hug, it feels good to be back, to come home to his dad and dog and feel loved _, safe_.

The afternoon is spent sitting outside under the warm, summer sun. Jug regales his father with tales from the trip, as he plays fetch with Hot Dog. When it grows dark Jug heads inside to unpack and shower while his father starts dinner. They eat in front of the TV, watching old episodes of Mythbusters until Jughead grows tired and calls it a night. He sleeps soundlessly, no nightmares startling him awake, only pleasant dreams of winding highways, motel rooms with messy sheets and sitting under a Chicago night sky with Archie by his side.

He wakes with a smile on his face, Hot Dog bounding up onto his bed to smother him with kisses, and the smell of coffee and bacon. The smell lures him to the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, stretching out his tired bones he makes the short walk, sitting down at the table. FP hands him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, he inhales the delicious aroma, sipping the bitter liquid, letting it chase away the cobwebs from his mind. Hot Dog sits happily at his feet; the young pup has been clingy ever since he came home, someone else who has been attentive is his dad, who is placing an over filled plate of eggs, bacon, toast and a hash brown before him.

“Thanks,” he says, digging in. “I should go away more often.”

FP sits across from him, offering him a smile, but there is was a flicker of something Jughead didn't quite catch in his eyes, and it has alarms bells sounding. There is a change in the air; the hot, bright summer morning suddenly turns cold, grows dark. Jug doesn't want to deal with any more darkness, doesn't want to be handed any more chaos, not now that he's found peace. He won't push, won't go looking for trouble, he'll linger in the light for as long as possible. It doesn't stop the fear from opening a hole in his gut, doesn't stop the anxiety from bursting to life, running rampant through his veins.

He shouldn't ask, should eat his breakfast then head over to Archie's, pretend he didn't feel the shift in the air or see the flicker in his father's eyes. But he can't let sleeping dogs lie; there is an urge to know, to face whatever is to come and be done with it. Bracing himself, he lifts his gaze to meet FP's eyes, they cloud with distress, with a touch of sorrow. Sighing FP reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded envelope. Jug senses he has carried it around for days, taking it out in quiet, stolen moments, smoothing out the wrinkles and fighting back the urge to unseal it. Jughead accepts it with trembling fingers, gut twisting into knots, revolting against the greasy food he just ate.

It's a letter from the prison Bryce is being held in, and it dawns on him that it’s been nine months, his time is up. All his bones begin to shake as he tears open the envelope, hastily he reads the letter, but he already knows what it will say. Bryce Danvers is free. Jughead will probably never see him again, but there is an unsettling feeling stirring awake in his bones, making him feel ill, afraid. Whatever happens next is not on him, he did the right thing, he fought bravely for himself, for a stranger who could have been Bryce’s next victim.

“Juggie, bub, you’re okay.” He didn’t feel the tears at first or notice that his dad had moved closer. “You are safe, okay? I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

"I know" he steadies himself, breathing out the fear, the grief and coldness that lingers after all this time. "I am not responsible for Bryce. I did the right thing." Eyes flutter shut, caging the tears "I get to live my life again, and I won't let him take any more from me." Strength chases away the grief, courage scatters the fear, filling him with fire, with light. "I'll be okay" and he will, he will struggle, stumble and fall, but he will be fine. He is a fighter, he has found peace inside his soul, found happiness once more, and he won't let Bryce, wherever the hell he is, take any of that from him.

“I’m okay” he declares, voice steady and strong, tears drying from eyes that have cried oceans. “I’m okay.”

**XxX**

Archie is not okay; he is simmering with rage, pacing restlessly in front of Jug, hands balled into fists, ready, eager to hit a wall, to knock the teeth from a cocky grin. Jug watches him from his place on the swing, surprisingly calm given that the guy who raped him has been released from prison. He could rage, could collapse to the floor in an ugly, sobbing mess but he is stronger now, he can handle this. This day had always been coming; it used to tear him apart, keep him up all night, now it feels like the end. Not in a catastrophic way, he isn't going to tear at the seams, unspooling his guts and painful past onto the dirt at his feet.

There is a sense of relief, a feeling of the last threads tying him to Bryce severing, setting him free. Jug gets to choose how he reacts to this, how he moves on with his life and after the last week of joy, adventures and golden happiness, he decides to be okay with it. He found parts of himself scattered in diners, cheap motel rooms, on highways stretching on for infinity and under the glittering night sky in a shiny, bright city. Among the chaos, he found peace, and he is not giving it up, not losing any more time or life to Bryce.

Rising, he walks over to Archie, halting him in his tracks. He is slightly less angry, but there is rage and hurt shimmering in the amber eyes Jug loves to get lost in. Cupping Archie's face between steady hands, he leans in to kiss him, hoping to quell the rage, bring Archie back to him. It works, the anger has vanished from his eyes, the hurt lingers and Jughead wants to chase it away, to find joy and happiness once more in Archie’s eyes.

"I'm okay, Arch" he repeats his earlier words, voice steady and strong. "He isn't ever going to show his face here again. He has been punished, let's not give any more energy to him, he's taken enough from me, _from us."_

Archie deflates, dropping his head to Jug’s shoulder, breath warm and ticklish against the nape of his neck. “I just hate him so much, for what he did to you.” He stepped back, leaving his arms to linger around Jughead’s narrow waist. “How are you so calm right now? I mean, I’m glad you’re not upset, but I don’t want you pretending to be alright when you’re really not. If you are sad or angry it's okay; it's understandable."

"I am really okay, Archie" he admitted. "The past week I have been so happy, I felt alive for the first time in months, and I get to decide if Bryce being released brings my world down. And I am deciding, right here, right now, that it's not going to. I choose to be happy, to stand here, with you. Bryce didn't destroy me, I am still alive, and I am going to live."

Archie smiled, bright and full of devotion, of wonder. “I love you Jughead,” he cups the side of Jug’s face with one hand, the other tightening around his waist to bring him close for a kiss. "You are so strong and brave” he leans in, pressing his lips to Jug’s in a tender kiss “you are my hero."

Jug laughed, eyes glistening with tears of joy. "You're a sap Archie Andrews" he whispered, breath ghosting across Archie's lips. "I love you too; I owe you so much. You helped save me, so I guess that makes you my hero too."

Archie grinned, playful and bright, “maybe we should get some costumes? Become Riverdale’s very own vigilantes?”

"Archie, you need to stop watching so much Arrow." Jug teased, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. "Okay, my teeth are about to rot, can we stop with the sap now?"

Archie laughed, stepping back and leading Jug over to the roundabout, it seemed only yesterday they were here, broken, grief-stricken, spinning around on anxiety as their world fell apart around them. Today they were whole, their world having slowly and painfully come together again. Jughead laughed freely, played with childlike delight, kissed Archie just because he could. There were still months of recovery ahead, the mark Bryce left on him would last a life time, but today, under the beating sun and with Archie by his side, he felt at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I quick note explaining why I chose for Jughead to receives letters from Bryce's dentation centre. I am not sure if this is something that happens in real life but I saw it on One Tree Hill a few years ago and it felt fitting for the story. Thank you taking your time to read and I look forward to sharing more stories with you all in the future :)


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